


Salvation in his Blue Eyes

by Hannibal_X_Will



Category: Snowpiercer (2013)
Genre: Angst, Baby!Edgar, Curtis needs a hug, Edgar is Curtis's salvation, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Pre-Movie, Regret, Spoilers, Teen!Curtis, canon violence, cute baby feels, guilt and shame, mentions of cannibalism, one-shot (for now at least), snowpiercer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:47:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5549699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannibal_X_Will/pseuds/Hannibal_X_Will
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Curtis still has the woman's blood on his hands when Gilliam comes to him and hands him the crying baby that a few hours ago he had been prepared to eat to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salvation in his Blue Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I saw Snowpiercer and fell in love with these two <3 their backstory is so tragic I couldn't help but try and bring a little light into it! Hope you like it :)

The woman’s blood was still on his hands and the smell of cooked flesh in his nose. His stomach was clawing itself to pieces but he could not take a bite like the others had, he didn’t think he would ever regain any kind of appetite. The baby hadn’t stopped crying since he had plunged the knife into its mother’s chest, the shrill cries were reverberating around the train carriage. The constant rattling and vibration was making Curtis’s head pound.

 _I’m a monster._ That thought had been going around and around his mind since the old man had intervened from him taking the baby. The man had been calm as he had cut off his own arm and offered it to them in exchange for the baby’s life.

 _“Eat this, if you’re so hungry. Eat this, but leave the baby.”_ His voice filled Curtis’s ears and he buried his head in his hands. Digging his nails hard into his skull, he fought the urge to scream, to jump to his feet and punch the metal wall till he broke his hands. _I’m a monster, a fucking monster._

He was huddled in the very back of the train, right in one corner with his legs drawn up to his chest. He wished he could somehow vanish into the shadows, cease to exist, he didn’t deserve to after what he had done. _Survival_ , it was only natural for the strong to survive, to eat the weak - that had been his justification to himself as he and the others had turned on the weakest amongst them. They were nothing but animals, starving animals locked in a moving metal box. There had been no other choice, or so Curtis had believed, had told himself.

But they had been wrong. The old man – _Gilliam_ – had shown them there was another option, one that they had all realised but chose not to consider because they were too cowardly. They had fooled themselves, they were not the strong, they were the weak, and they were the ones who should die.

Curtis stiffened as he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He dropped his hands, shuddered as he caught sight of the dried blood on his skin and under his nails. Shrinking back, he prayed the semi-darkness would conceal him from whoever was making their way towards him. His heart dropped as he recognised the old man moving unsteadily towards him. Even with the poor light conditions he could see the man was ghostly pale, his left sleeve hung empty. Curtis’s stomach contracted painfully and he had to close his eyes to stop from throwing up. In his good arm, the old man had a bundle tucked against his chest. Curtis realised then that the noise of baby’s cries was growing louder – _closer_.

“No,” he croaked, pushing himself up against the wall, “No, _stop_ , don’t bring it near _me_!”

  
“It’s a _him_ , not an it,” the old man spoke loudly so he could be heard over the baby’s cries.

Curtis stared at the bundle in Gilliam’s arm, he saw with relief someone – he assumed the old man – had wrapped the baby in a different blanket, the other being stained with its mother’s blood. Blood spilled by _his_ hand. The baby’s face was screwed up as he cried, its whole face was flushed and cheeks glistening with tears. Someone drove a knife into Curtis’s heart and twisted it. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

Gilliam took another step towards him and Curtis raised his hand in a silent plea for him to stop.

“Take him, Curtis,” the old man said, his thin arm shook slightly, “before I drop him please.”

Curtis didn’t want to, every fibre of his being was screaming at him to not do it. He didn’t trust himself, _didn’t trust what he would do_ , what his hands were capable of. Yet he could see Gilliam’s old arm struggling to hold the baby and the thought of the baby falling to the ground caused the invisible knife in his chest to twist again.

His whole body trembled and he held his breath as he reached out and took the squirming bundle from Gilliam. The moment he held the baby to his chest he knew he was done for. It was wrong, sick, _he had killed the child’s mother!_ He had planned to _eat_ him to survive. But as he stared down at the bundle, Curtis realised he would do anything for the boy, he would never let anything or one hurt him, he was his responsibility, his reminder that there was always a choice and sometimes the right one was the hardest.

“W-what’s his name?” He asked Gilliam as he gentle rocked the baby in his arms.

“Edgar,” the old man told him, there was a knowing look in his eyes but Curtis didn’t see it, he only had eyes for the tiny life in his arms.

 _Edgar_ …the name didn’t suit a baby but Curtis expected he would grow into it. The little boy was no longer crying with all his might. He was hiccupping softly, blinking up at Curtis with huge blue eyes that reminded him of the colour of the ocean. _The ocean_ …that, like everything else outside of the train, was dead, frozen over. He thought it gone, banished to memory only, doomed to fade with time but yet again he had been wrong. _Edgar…his miracle, maybe his salvation?_

“He’ll need protection.” That got Curtis’s attention. He broke eye contact with the baby to stare at Gilliam. Edgar cooed and wriggled an arm free of his blanket, reaching up towards Curtis’s face.

“No one is going to hurt him whilst I’m alive,” Curtis growled. Lifting Edgar higher against his chest and turning his face down so the baby’s tiny hand could touch his face. Edgar’s hand was hot as he clumsily pawed at Curtis’s cheek and nose. For first time in what felt like an eternity, Curtis felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

“I hope you’re right, Curtis,” Gilliam said then slowly began to retreat.

Panic flashed through Curtis and called after the old man, “Wait, where are you going?”

“Don’t be afraid, Curtis,” Gilliam said over his shoulder, “I have faith in you. You and little Edgar there are going to shape the future, I know it.”

Curtis stared after the old man, stunned and lost. The baby hiccupped again and he turned his attention back to Edgar.

“Shape the future, hey?” He whispered to Edgar, bouncing him slightly making the baby giggle and smile a toothless-grin, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see about that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I hope to maybe write more and make this a series following Curtis and Edgar as the years go by, up until the point the movie begins (if I do this then it will become Edgar/Curtis :P)


End file.
